


A Game of Little Quidditch

by deadptarmigan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 22:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30045456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadptarmigan/pseuds/deadptarmigan
Summary: Ginny teaches Harry a new way to play Quidditch.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	A Game of Little Quidditch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyevansJan30](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyevansJan30/gifts).



“Here,” said Ginny, reaching for his hand and taking it. “I want to teach you something.”

Harry leaned back against the headboard. His mouth was still full of pretzels and a nutty, chocolate mixture Ginny’d brought upstairs from the kitchen in a little clay pot. It was a delicious snack, that, though not nearly as delicious as what he’d been tasting earlier. “Teach me?” he said, then swallowed.

“Manners, maybe,” she said, laughing.

Early afternoon sunlight streamed through the small window that overlooked the Burrow’s orchard. It set her hair to glinting. It was a bit wilder at the moment than it usually was; _Ginny_ looked a bit wild, naked as she was, one knee cocked up, and her other leg twined with his. Her hair tumbled over her pale shoulders, and was nearly as messy as his, since he’d just had his hands in it.

Harry took his hand from hers and tickled her side, stroking, rather than poking. “And here I thought you’d already taught me everything,” he said.

There was a strand of long red hair coiled around her breast, and Harry used it to tease her pale pink nipple — it was soft now, mostly, but he thought he saw a little quiver of interest. It surprised him, that; the Weasleys had only vacated the Burrow in favor of shopping in Diagon Alley at mid-morning, and they’d already gone at it twice.

“Not *that*,” she said, playful. “And besides, I’ve done my teaching. You’re the master, now.”

He squeezed her side then gave her back his hand. It was Sunday at the Burrow, the sun was shining, and there was a nice scent of spring in the chill air. Harry wanted nothing more than to just stay here in bed with her.

“As long as it doesn’t involve leaving this bed,” said Harry. With his other hand, he scooped more of the nutty chocolate onto his pretzel and brought it to his mouth.

“It doesn’t,” she assured him. “It’s just a little game I used to play with R—“

“Don’t say the name!” Harry said loudly.

“Sorry! I forgot!”

“*You’re* the one who made that rule,” Harry reminded her.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she said. “As I was saying, I used to play this with a totally random, completely anonymous person whose name I do not remember, I assure you.”

“Just while we’re naked,” said Harry.

“We liked to call it *Quidditch*.”

And then, to Harry’s amusement, she taught him a version of Quidditch that was not played on brooms, but involved enchanted bits of balled up parchment, holding very still, and trying to protect oneself from speedy little Bludgers smacking into his face, trying not to swallow the Quaffles, and above all, trying to catch the tiny speck of a Snitch that merely seemed to taunt him. Prior to this afternoon, the rules, he’d found out, were for them to have the whole use of the room, but Ginny forced gameplay to remain on her bed, hooting with laughter when Harry would stand, swiping his hand in the air, trying to catch the Snitch.

Ginny pulled him down, still breathless with laughter. “You should see your face!” she crowed. “It’s just a silly game, Harry, you aren’t letting down all of Gryffindor if you don’t catch it.”

He’d sprawled atop her, and he sighed, wriggling against her. The game was pushed back into a corner of his mind; he was much too occupied thinking that the bed may be too narrow for the game of Quidditch, but it was perfectly sized for them to have their bodies near each other. There was, he thought, an entirely different Snitch he ought to be looking for. There were only so many hours before the Weasley returned, after all.

“I’ve got an idea for a new game,” he said.

“I know what game you’re thinking of, and it’s not new,” she said, smug and warm. “At least, not to us.”

“But one of my favorites,” he said, cheerful. “We’ll play the French version first.”

As he slid down her body, he heard her murmur, “Definitely one of my favorites.”

“Feel free to call me the master again, if you like...”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for LilyEvansJan30, who was not happy when I cheated on her with another fandom. Sorry about that, Lily!


End file.
